Trails
by Shasta O'Reilly
Summary: Jack goes off to Sante Fe but is in for a surprise when he gets there: it isn't what he thought it was. Stuck in the grips of a bad ranch hand named Mighty Joe, and a girl named Shasta, can Jack find his dreams he's been chasing?
1. Chapter 1

Trails 

By Shasta 

Author's Note~~

This is one of my older stories, written about 6 months- a year ago. I haven't finished it, but some day I will finish it. Trick has been used in my newest story, which is untitled. Brock appears in that new story as well, only he is a different person. "Trails" is in no way connected to my Untitled story, and Shasta is not the same person as Brenna "Shasta" O'Reilly from Untitled. 

I own Trick, Brock, Mighty Joe, Shasta, and any of the other characters that did not appear in "Newsies." Jack and the other characters are property of "Newsies" and Disney. The girls are all property of their rightful owners. Please read and review J Thank you! 

~~Ashley/Shasta~~

Chapter 1

Jack lay on his back gazing at the bright diamonds in the sky. He couldn't believe he was actually going through with his plan, his plan to go to Sante Fe to start all over again. Glimpses of familiar faces traced their way through his memory and he smiled. Those were the good old days, one could say; the days spent cruising the streets of Manhattan shouting out headlines and being with his best friends. "I'm sure gonna miss those guys." He spoke into the emptiness. How he wished Race or Dave or any of the newsies were there to listen to his troubles. Instead all he had was the stars millions of miles ahead of him. He picked up his cowboy hat and smiled, "I'll finally be a cowboy" he muttered shoving the hat under his head and he drifted into sleep. 

****

Jack had been on the road now for many weeks, leaving the train in St. Louis and wandering the prairie with wagon trains miles long. Most were headed for Oregon, as he had learned from many of the families he met along the way. The group he was with now had made a small break stop in a small town in Texas. It wasn't very big, a few dusty two story houses lined up next to each other. There was a hotel, a bar and a place to buy goods. Men with cowboy hats paraded along the sides of the roads as Jack passed. They tipped their hats and went on their way. Apart from the occasional cowboy or Indian, the town was desolate. The hot wind blew through the dusty streets and Jack wanted out more than anything.

He stepped into the bar and immediately regretted it. The 6 or so men and women standing around at tables drinking frothy beer glared at him as he entered. He hesitated before mustering up the courage to walk up the bar. Hell, he faced Heartz, he could face a few Texans. He glanced around him once again and turned his gaze on the bartender. He practically tripped over himself at the site of her. She was beautiful, her fire red hair lay thick under her cowboy hat, her green eyes danced and her tanned face smiled a wonderful smile at him. And when she opened her mouth, she seemed to sing. 

"What can I get fer ya stranger?" He managed a smile but couldn't get the words out. "Well? Are ya mute?" She rose her eyebrow at him, and Jack blushed.

"Erm, no I shuah ain't mute—"

"Ah! Folks we have a damn yankee among us." She smiled an even larger smile at him. "Welcome to El Paso Texas. Me names Shasta and I run this here joint. Ya got any problems, ya take it to me, not one of the stupid fools in this here bar." 

A lot of grunts were heard coming from those 'stupid fools' and jack just nervously laughed. He wouldn't want to take any of his troubles out with them, since most carried rather large guns. "Well what'll it be? Or are you just gonna stand around gawkin' at me?" this raised a few clucks and howls from the group behind Jack. 

"I'll…err..have a beer." Shasta threw back her head in laughter. Jack thought he did something wrong. "What?"

"Oh you're just a typical outsider is all."She patted his hand. "Now don't you worry, Shasta'll get you a beer." She turned around and went about her business creating her drink. 'Stupid outsiders.' She laughed to herself. He was a cute one, but he didn't fit his cowboy hat. Only real cowboys could wear those hats, and this one sure as hells high waters wasn't a cowboy. Unless they had a head of cattle up in New York. She turned around and banged the tall glass in front of the handsome stranger. "There ya are sir, I hope you enjoy it." She walked off to talk to her other customers. 

Jack watched her leave and looked down into his glass. He might as well drink it since he had come all this way. He picked up the glass, raised it to his mouth and let the liquid slide in…..then back out. He spit it out across the bar disgusted by its contents. Shasta and the rest of the group in the bar hooted with laughter. "What the hell was that?" Jack said whiping his mouth with his dirty shirt sleeve. 

"It's what we call beer here in Texas. Obviously you Northerners have not had much of it." Shasta winked at him toweling down his mess. Jack just looked back at the glass. Shasta just smiled, grabbed the glass and took a large gulp of the putrid liquid. Without even so much as a wince, Shasta laid the cup back in front of him and licked her lips. "Now that was right dandy if you ask me! Now drink up Yank!" 

Jack had been called Cowboy in the North and now he was called a Yank when he finally got out west. He sighed, held his breath and took another drink and managed to keep it from exiting the way it came in. "That's a boy. Now would ya like anythin' else? Or will that beer hold ya down?" She laughed, her red hair flouncing around on her shoulders. 

"I'se fine." She smiled and refilled his glass. With a swish of her hips, she sashayed her way to the end of the bar where she exited and sat down next to him. 

"So stranger what you be callin' yourself?" 

"Jack Kelly."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meetcha Jackie boy. What the hell are you doin here in Devil's country since ye're obviously from the north?"

"Going to Sante Fe. Always been me dream."

"Dream eh? I hope you ain't expecting much." She said. Jack didn't know what to think of this. But she wasn't going to let some beautiful girl in a cowboy hat tell him what Sante Fe is like. Hell, shes probably never even been there. "you're probably thinking what most folks passin by are thinking. What the hell does she know about anything? I know a lot…I've seen a lot and I've been everywhere on this here green continent. I even been to New York."

"I'se just come from New York. Lived there all me life."

"Eh, it was all right. If ye ask me, it sure ain't Texas. All them damn buildings and people everywhere. Just gimme these wide open spaces and I'll be a happy gal." She smiled as she said this gesturing at the view from the window of endless plains with cattle dotting the horizon. Jack smiled and Shasta gazed into his face. "Now why is it you wear a cowboy hat? Only true cowboys wear em and you sure ain't one of them!" 

Jack didn't know what to say to this, he had never been questioned about his hat, not even in New York but once he got out West he found himself being questioned by a girl who was wearing a cowboy hat. "Well why you'se wearing one?" 

"I'm a cowgirl…worked on my pa's ranch up till I was 18 and then I ran away and came here. Now, are ye gonna answer my question?" 

"Umm…I don't really have a reason, I've just always been known as da cowboy of the group up where I come from."

"And where would that be?"

"New York."

"Ah New York….those buildin's are too big fer me. I like the flat plains." She smiled at him and jumped off the stool and headed back behind the bar. "I see ye're done with that beer eh? I knew you could handle it." She grabbed the glass and refilled it. "Now, I hope you have a way te pay fer all this, most of those damn foreigners don't pay shit…" She looked at him through fiery eyes. 

"Ummm…" Jack searched his pockets and came up with a few bills. "I got this…" 

"Good!" Shasta snatched up the crinkled bills. "This'll do…now finish that drink..none goes wasted! Ya hear that boys?" She called over Jack's shoulder to the men who looked ready to throw their drinks at one another so into their pocker match were they. Race would like it here, Jack smiled at the thought of his friend. 

"Whatcha smirkin at there Yankee boy?" One of the scruffier men, whose age was around 50 said, getting up out of his chair and advanced on Jack. 

"Err..nothing…" Jack was a little scared of this wrinkly scarecrow walking his way, with his gruff voice and mean eyes.

"Alright alright…Lester sit down. You're drunk and the Yank didn't mean anything'." Lester grunted and shuffled back to his seat, his dirty jeans under faded chaps rustled as he walked. Shasta leaned over across the bar and loweredher voice,"That there is Lester, he's one of the locals around here. Used to be a cowboy until he got in a fight with the owner of the ranch and shot up his wife. He's been outta work since." She chuckled as she stood up straight again, then let her face fall. She took the hat off her head and examined it. "It sure gets borin round here. Always the same folks." Her face brightened a little, "You gonna become a cowboy, yank?"

"I'm hoping so."

"Well I hope your not disappointed. It's a rough job and not many take a liken to it. Take Lester," At the sound of his name the old man shot a glance through slitted eyes and bushy white eyebrows. His lip curled but Shasta kept on talking. "he hated bein a cowboy but that's what he did. He got into the business and he couldn't get out. You don't get paid much but I do know a place where you could get some work."

"Well I'm going to Sante Fe to get work…"

"Sante Fe?! You gotta be jokin' with me. You ain't gonna find nothing out there that is decent and all. My brother Scott owns a ranch 50 miles from here in some little town. Its huge, makes a good profit and hes looking for a new ranch hand. I betcha he'd take ya."

It sounded enticing, but he wanted to try his hand in Sante Fe. "I think I'll just be headin on to Sante Fe…" 

"Eh, you're missin' a good chance bud, but I'm sure you'll be back when you find out how bleak that place is." Shasta smiled and took his empty glass back. "Well ye're done with this, and don't you have a wagon to catch?" Jack jumped out of his seat, tipped his hat at Shasta and walked out the door. "You come back here if you be needin' a job ya hear?" Shasta yelled after him, and he just nodded, looking around at this dust filled place. Certainly was not New York.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

And no it definitely was not New York. Jack had arrived in Sante Fe and found it to be what Shasta had said. Bleak and uninviting. What happened to the Sante Fe of his dreams? Was that just an illusion? He scratched at his unshaven face, and kicked the dust from under his feet. Even his clothes and hat were bleak; dusty and unlifelike. Once again, like many of the other days since he had arrived, he spent his afternoon wandering the streets of Sante Fe. The shops seemed inviting, but not to his taste, a wagon pulled by dusty horses would eventually pull past him with a family of dirty children with blank faces and rough hands. 

Seeing a trade store, he wandered in, hoping that he would run into a rancher looking for hands. Once inside he saw a group of young men, all about his own age, only they looked much older. Their skin was rough and dark, their eyes hard, and their hands calloused. They looked over Jack as if he were prized meat for sale at a butchers block. He nervously looked around at the goods on the shelves, but he could still feel their eyes on him. Finally on of the boys stepped up to him.

"Ey." He grumbled out, his dark eyes pierced Jack as though he knew more than Jack did. "What you doin heah?"  
"Umm…looking for a job." Jack answered, afraid to look in his eyes. 

"Well we'se lookin' for jobs too and you don't look like you have any xperience so scabbah off." The voice sounded distinctly familiar, something right out of his younger years, when he first started out as a newsie. Jack didn't want to argue with the guy so he shrugged his shoulders and left the store, looking behind him at the tall lanky kid who had just spoke with him. He shook his head, it was all in his imagination that he knew that guy. He just had a New York accent was all. 

The day was turning out to be one of the hotter ones. The sun beat down on Jack's already red face and bleached hair, his hat providing little solace. He couldn't wait for the sun to set, so he could sleep and not worry about how he was running out of money very quickly and wouldn't have enough to eat anything or afford to sleep anywhere in the next day or two. He saw another bar and ducked in. No friendly greetings here. The bartender was as typical as the next, only there for the money. He ordered his usual beer, and sat back watching the locals gamble on poker, argue with one another or flirt with the prostitutes which seemed to be in abundance here. This was the daily routine he'd noticed and didn't want to become accustomed to it. 

After a half an hour of sipping his drink, the kid from the shop wandered into the bar and took a seat down next to Jack. "Sorry bout before, kid. Didn't mean anythin'." He said eying Jack again. "Say, where you from kid?"

Jack was getting sick of these nicknames, first Yank, then kid. "New York." He muttered, staring into his glass.

"Oh." He seemed to contemplate something then shook his head. "Aye, I used to come from there too, but when ye're here, ye ferget stuff like that I guess."

"So what are you doin' here then?" 

"It was my dream evah since I was little, I wanted to go out west and become one of the hero's of the west-a cowboy! Some heroic life this is…I sit on a stupid horse all day looking at the backs of filthy cows. You'se just rolled into town I can tell by yer look, I'd get out if I were you…" There was a tone of warning in his husky voice, and Jack thought of Shasta's offer. 

"Back in El Paso this bartender has a broddah who works on a big ranch out there in Texas, says it makes good profits—" Before Jack could continue a man wearing a thick hide jacket, chaps, and a dusty brown hat stomped into the room, his spurs chipping the floor. He was chewing on a blade of brown grass and his scrunched up face resembled that of Warren Snyder. A shudder of remembrance went through Jack's body. His gray eyes swept the room and landed on Jack and the other kid. Both stiffened their pose and glanced at each other. The old man chuckled and edged up to them. 

"Well well well, fresh meat!" He laughed banging Jack on the back. "You 2 need work eh? You're hired." Before they could say anything else, they were being hauled back out onto the streets to a wagon where they were shoved inside. Both were confused, and didn't know what to think, except that here was a job that was going to give them money finally


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

"What's yer name by the way?" the guy sitting opposite Jack asked as the wagon wheels hit the holes and ruts in the road. The journey was long and hot, making stops at different towns, picking up new boys as they went. 

"Jack. What about you?" 

"Me names Mark but back in New York they called me Trick, and they call me that heah sometimes. Whatcha do in New York?"  
"I was a newsie."

"No kiddin'. That was me job, I worked a little before ya time I guess." The feeling of already knowing Trick played once again in Jack's head. It could have just been a coincidence that they were both from New York, but to be newsies there had to be some connection. He repeated the name Trick over and over again in his head, trying to conjure up an image of where he might know him from. "Maybe you know some of de boys…is Conlon still reakin havok ovah in Brooklyn?"

"Of course! You knew ol' Spot? He's one of me buddies."

"Yea, I had a bunch of little newsies under my care when I worked dere. Spot was one o' dem, and there were a couple others. Race, Jake, some kid named Francis that wanted ta be jus' like me! Heh, I wondah whatever happened ta him." That was it…it was Trick, the true and original cowboy of the Manhattan Newsies.

"No kiddin, Francis Sullivan ya say? Well yer lookin' at 'em!" 

"Nah…you'se said yer name was Jack!" 

"Yeah, Jack Kelly, I changed it when I gots into some trouble with Snyder, no big deal, but I still had ta change it." The two old friends talked about old times, what they had been up to over the years until the wagon stopped and they were told to get out. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

What the boys were faced with was unlike anything they had ever been through before. It was hard, brutal physical labor under the strict command of a man called Mighty Joe. Mighty Joe was a big man, with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. His face was always contorted into a scowl, usually aimed at a new employee not used to his demands. His demands were that you do what he wanted when he wanted it done and he didn't care if you couldn't lift that piece of machinery, you just had to. And if you complained, you wouldn't see the sun for days. Which would have been fine for Jack. The scorching sun blistered his skin, sweat was his drink and he now had the startings of a scruffy beard. Trick didn't look any better. His skin was like paper, it didn't blister any more, for he was used to being out in the sun, yet the heat was getting to him. 

"Man, I'd prefer Snyder over this anyday." Jack groaned picking up the sack of feed for the cattle. "This ain't no life of a cowboy."

"Sometimes it is…depends on where ya work. But I'se never been in anythin' this bad before." Trick shook his head. He was not happy with this work. It was like they were the cattle and Mighty Joe was the cowboy. The overbearing, evil Snyder of all cowboys. 

*****

Everyday had basically been the same for the past month for them. They had not been allowed to quit and running away seemed out of the question. One morning Mighty Joe had to leave the ranch and the hands were able to take a rest. This was a rare moment, and a first for Jack and Trick. 

"Jackie boy, I want out…and now. I can't take this place anymore. They're draining me of all my greatness." At this Trick just laughed, but he was serious. He needed out and so did Jack. Badly. 

"I know what ya mean, I still think we need to make a run for it and go to El Paso and find Shasta…"

"Who the hell knows where we are anyway! We could be in Mexico for all we know, and I ain't good wid directions."

"We can ask…somewheres there has to be a town…they'll know where we are." Trick wanted out so desperately, and to where he did not care. Jack had his hopes too. He had wanted to come to Sante Fe right? And he made it; well, kind of. 

Jack looked out over the scruffy landscape that was doomed to call home for now. Jack couldn't wait to get out of this place; the bunk beds were hard and uncomfortable, the nights unbearably cold with only a thin shit to keep him warm. His clothes weren't fitting him right, they hung loose from his frail body made thin from malnourishment. He hadn't had a good meal since he left New York, and that wasn't even saying very much. The wages were next to nothing but considering they never left the ranch, it was well saved up. 

"Look Trick, I have nearly 50 dollars, we can make a go for it and find somewheres else to stay." Trick looked at Jack…the offer was tempting. Trick had about 50 dollars to his name as well, together they could buy a train ticket to wherever they wanted to go. 

"Alright, we both have about 50 bucks, so lets get the hell outta heah." They continued to talk about their escape plan until it was time to get their grub. The time was set for late that night after everyone went to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 2

Chapter 5

The only sound you could hear was the rustle of the cattle and the crickets chirping in the sparce trees that surrounded the place. The twinkling of the stars over head was the only light thatthe two boys had as they crept towards the outlining fence. They had made it this far, once over the fence they were scotch free and out of there. They could taste the freedom, it was bittersweet and they longed for it. Working on this ranch felt like a jail, hell they were trying to escape weren't they?!

Trick reached the fence first, and with ease pulled himself over and crawled to a tree to wait for Jack. When Jack didn't pop over the fence a few seconds later Trick began to worry. He listened, nothing. Jack had been right behind him, what was taking him so long? Trick eased over to the fence and peeped through. What he saw made him run, faster than he's ever ran before. Jack had been caught and Mighty Joe was looking for Trick. Trick couldn't go back, he had to get out of there, and he knew Jack would get out, would try again. He could hear the dogs after him, but he kept running. Soon the dogs barking subsided, he was getting away! He didn't slow down until everything was silent, and the ranch was no longer visible on the horizon. 

****

Jack had been so close to escaping. So close. When the rough hand closed over his mouth and he was pulled back, he wanted more than anything to be Trick. 'Run Trick, run!' went over and over through his mind, and run Trick did. As the dogs tore after him Jack kept hoping he would break free and get to El Paso, or wherever. And he also wished beyond wish that he could get out again.

What went on over the course of the next few days was pure hell. Anyone caught escaping was given something just short of an execution. And in Jack's book, execution would have been better than this torture. He had to carry the load of ten people and he was denied food. At night he was chained to a post like a dog, with no blankets, only his meager clothes. He shivered throughout the night only to be awoken before dawn by Mighty Joe's dog biting him. He worked long hours under the blazing sun, his muscles ached and his stomach growling. This lasted for a full week before Jack couldn't take it anymore.

The days were all blurry to Jack now, and at about midday all he could think of was a plate of gruel and a nice sleep. That would never happen with Mighty Joe around. He watched over him like a hawk, pacing the perimeter watching Jack carry on with his work. Jack of course did his work, but he would break free, he would conquer over this devil who was proving to be worse than Pulitzer and Snyder combined. This day was exceptionally hot, and the water barrel was being passed around. To everyone but Jack that is. His throat was dry as bone and his voice was just a scratchy record. He longed for the water, needed the water. It was too hot not to drink water. But it passed right by him, Mighty Joe made sure of that. Jack looked after it longingly, and Mighty Joe just laughed, he loved to see his kids suffer. No one escaped under him, yet he had lost one. But he wasn't going to lose this one. 

Jack continued doing his chores, pulling one load after another, then the heat and dehydration caught up with him. His knees went week and the world blacked out around him and his body, like the sack of feed he was carrying, made a dead plop in the sand.

****

Trick had found himself on a train to El Paso, the one place Jack had told him about. The train stopped at the edge of this small, dusty Texas town. He walked into town by way of a set of wagon ruts that weaved its way down. He wondered who Shasta was. Jack had mentioned her a couple times, and he needed to find her, maybe she could help him out. He stopped into a trade store and asked the clerk if he knew Shasta. Yea, of course he did and he told him to go to the bar, she was working there.

Trick immediately thought of the prostitutes that hung out in those bars and hoped to God that Jack didn't mean Shasta was a prostitute. That would get him no where unless he wanted a nice fuck. And that he did, but that would get him and Jack no where really fast. He stepped into the bar and was greeted with the same blank faces he was used to. They looked very much like his own, since he had been out west for the past 5 years under this broiler of a sun. He looked at the few prostitutes littering the floor and then saw the bartender who was a site for very sore eyes. He took her all in, her red hair under the dusty cowboy hat, her thin figure in genuine cowboy clothing, and a sweet smile. And hoped to heaven that this was Shasta. He walked over to the bar and sat down.

"You wouldn't know who Shasta is would ya now?"

"Eh, I happen to. Who's askin?"

"Me name's Trick, a friend of mine 'appened ta meet Shasta…"

"Aye, that would be me, Shasta's my name, bartendin's my game and I hope you don't plan on getting away cold without a drink." She gave him a look and he must have been smiling from ear to ear. She was the cutest thing he ever did see. "Now what do you want?"

"Well, see, uh, Jack, the guy who met ya, me an' him used ta work at dis ranch and it was hell. And we'se tried to escape but he got caught and he's stuck dere. He kept talkin' about El Paso and Shasta-you- and so I came ta see ya."

"Ah, another Yank. They seem to be comin' in here a bit lately. Right Lester?" An old man seated behind Trick grunted a reply and Shasta just grinned. "Well now, sounds like you got yerself a problem. What is the name of that ranch?"

"I dunno, a guy named Mighty Joe runs da place."

"Mighty Joe! HA! He's a gonner…" Shasta slammed a pint down in front of him. "Drink this Yank." He took a gulp and almost spit it back out. 

"This is horrible!" 

"Yes it is! But at least ya didn't spit it back out like yer friend Jack. Drink up, its Texas brew and you'll grow to like it. So what ya want me to do about Jack? Go up to Mighty Joe who hates my guts and tell him 'Ya I'd like that guy I met in my bar back please so he can go work on my brother's ranch.' Yea that would go over really well bud."

Trick didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He'd hoped Shasta would have some idea, but at least she wasn't some prostitute. "Why does he hate your guts?"

"Ha, funny you should ask. I kinda kidnapped some of those slaves of his that he treasures and—that's what Jack is, a slave ya know—well he's kinda mad at me." There was a glint in his eye and she laughed. Then she got to thinking, or so it seemed to Trick. After a few silent and awkward minutes, she put her hand down on the bar so loud Trick's glass jumped. "I got it! One of Mighty Joe's main men has been in love with me for a while," Trick could see why, "and I'm sure I can arrange a meetin' and maybe I can convince him to help Jack get out." Shasta grinned evilly and looked over at Trick."This could be fun!"

Trick smiled. He knew it would work eventually. And leave it all up to the female mind to think of ways to get out of trouble. Sure the male mind worked wonders too but if Trick were to walk into Mighty Joe's ranch today he'd be thrown back into slavery as Shasta had called it. 

"We'll leave tomorrow morning at dawn." Shasta said refilling his pint and heading down the bar to help the other customers. Trick smiled, he was helping his little Francis once again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 2

Chapter 6

Shasta had picked Trick up in her buggy predawn and they had set out to Mighty Joe's. The first half of the trip was spent in tired silence, but then once the sun was well overhead, the two started talking. 

"How'd you know Jack?" Shasta asked him, glancing in his direction.

"Well, we were both newsies back in New York and I was sorta his mentor. I helped him and some othah boys out when dey were younger. And den I came out heah 5 years ago and den I ran inta Jack—his real name is Francis. Didn't recocknize him at first, but I soon did once he told me his real name."

"Francis is his real name?! Ha!" Shasta giggled. "That's a funny name if ya ask me. Well ain't that a coincidence, that you two met again. What a sweet story." You could feel the sarcasm riding her tongue like a cowboy riding his bull. 

"Well you could look at it that way I guess…"

Shasta laughed. "I'm just kiddin'. You miss New York?"

"At first I didn't, I loved it out heah, but then Jackie boy wandered back inta me life and reminded me of where I come from and I miss it yea. I had some good times back dere, all my buds were dere and heah there ain't nobody. Back in New York me and me buds used ta spend everyday out on da streets sellin the papes—that's what newsies do. And we'd always go down ta Meddah's in the evenin' for some quality entertainment. " He laughed. "I was dere leadah, for a while anyway. I guess ya can say Francis-I mean Jack-looked up ta me when he was little. I was da true Cowboy, I guess Jack adopted that name when he was da leader. Guess he did turn out ta be me but I don't like it. Shoulda stayed in New York. More promise den out heah."

Shasta sighed and frowned at her memories. She never really had any friends. She had some, but those were back on her fathers farm, and she hadn't been back there in over 5 years.

"Whats wrong?" Trick sensed her unhappiness based on the frown on her lips and the frown on her forehead. She snapped out of it at the sound of his voice.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about old friends since ya brought it up." Silence filled the carriage once again as they let the land sail by them. 

Later on in the ride Shasta decided to talk, she hated not talking, since her chatterbox of a mouth was one of her trademarks. "When I was a girl and still livin on me pa's farm I used to have all these friends who lived with the families who shared the land. We were all little cowgirls and spent everyday outside," She pointed to the freckles dotting her cheeks and nose, "in case you couldn't tell."

"What happened ta those friends?" Trick asked.

"Beats the hell out of me. I left 5 years ago and moved to my brothers farm and worked there. Met some nice folks down there then moved to El Paso where I opened that bar. Noreal friends here though. I don't like it. I miss them, especially when you started talking about them earlier."

"Sorry bout dat."

"No worries, no worries. Maybe I should go back to my pa's farm one of these days." Silence entered the carriage once again. The sun was low in the sky and Shasta pulled the horses to a stop. "Mighty Joe's farm is right over that rise and I'm gonna leave this buggy here and you wait for us alright?"

Trick nodded, he knew he couldn't go back to the ranch, it would only get both of them in trouble even more.

*****

Mighty Joe didn't know what to do with his passed out escapee. He lay on the bed in the other room and although Brock, his main man, wanted to take him into town to have him checked out by a doctor, Joe was not about to let this one get free again. Brock had promised that the boy was totally unconscious and wouldn't wake up anytime soon due to dehydration and heat exhaustion. 

"It doesn't matter. That boy is not leaving this house. And that's final." Brock looked after his boss as he stomped out of the room. "Make sure you watch him 24-7." His booming voice echoed back through the hallways. Brock didn't know what to do. This kid needed medical attention and Joe wasn't going to allow it. He had to find a way to get past Joe. He went into the kids room and sat watching his shallow breathing. A few moments later Joe's pounding footsteps could be heard coming back to his position.

"BROCK." His voice filled the air. "Girl to see you." His pounding stomps retreated, replaced by the clicking of spurs. A cloaked figure entered through the doorway, her head hidden by her hood. She removed the hood when Joe was out of the roomand old emotions rose fire in his belly. It was Shasta, the girl from his youth, the girl he had always wanted but never could get. And here she was, standing in Mighty Joe's living room. 

"Hey Shasta." He managed to get out, "What's goin' on?"

"Hey Brock. I need to talk to you…" Hope rose in Brock's mind. "I need to get someone outta here. His name's Jack, he's a Yank."

"I dunno the names of any of the hands here. I have no contact with him…" His hopes went out the door, she was only here cause she needed his help. "Look, I gotta watch over this kid here and I can't really do much for ya…" 

When he pointed to the room with the kid she immediately recognized him as Jack. "That's him…I have to get him outta here! Whats wrong with him?"

"Dehydration and heat exhaustion, he passed out working yesterday. Tried to escape the other night, but we stopped him. Why ya gotta get him outta here?"

"I just…do…are ya gonna help me or not?" Shasta looked into his eyes, and Brock couldn't say no. 

"Alright, I have to get him to a doc anyway, but Mighty Joe there won't let me. If you can think of a way to get him outta here, then hes free to go." 

"Deal?"

"Of course." The two conjured up a plan on how to get him out, and at about midnight the two managed to walk past Mighty Joes office with a sack of feed carrying Jack inside.

The walk was long, and Brock was worried that he'd be in deep shit if Joe realized he was gone. 

"If you want to go back I can handle this one by myself, he doesn't weigh very much. What the hell you been feedin him? Air?"

"That's the punishment for runnin' away, he can't eat nothin' until Joe's sure he ain't gonna run away again. Man I don't want to go back. I hate it there, he's a damn slave driver."

"Then leave, you're not there now are ya? Just come back with me to El Paso and you can go on from there." It was an intriguing idea, and one extra day with Shasta was fine with him. They continued to walk on in silence, the cool wind stirred up the dirt on the road and sifted it over there clothing. 

"Shasta," He began, but stopped. Shasta just looked quizzically at him, wondering what was on his mind. "Shasta, I've really missed ya, why did ya leave me?" Shasta groaned, she didn't want to have to explain to him her reasons. 

"I just did, I had ta get away. I dunno why I did." Awkward silence followed, Brock kicked around the sand and hoped they'd reach the carriage soon. "Alright, there it is." She waved to a guy in the buggy and Brock realized it was the hand that had escaped.

"Hey! You were…"

"Oh hush up Brock" Shasta reprimanded him. "You want out? Then shut up and get in." She knew she was being harsh to him, after all she had broken his heart but that was 4 years ago, he should be over it by now. 

"Uh, guys, where's Jack?" 

"In the bag. He's sick so we have ta make a stop in at the doctors. Hey Brock, does Mighty Joe write down the names of all his slaves?"

"Nah, not that I know of. Certainly didn't know this bloke's name." Shasta was getting Jack out of the bag which was a process in itself since Jack was dead to the world it seemed. 

"Sorry bud, you get to sit in the back." She heaved him into the backseat and Brock pulled himself up next to him, shoving him into a sitting position.

About half way to El Paso, Jack came to, groaning at first and then he was wide awake, stunned and wondering where the hell he was.

"Welcome back to earth Jackie boy!" Trick turned around to greet his groggy friend. "Took ya awhile ta join us."

"Where..what…how…why.." Jack was totally and utterly confused and it showed in his parched face. "Trick?" Jack mumbled out.

"Yeah buddy boy, its me Trick. And that be Shasta and dat is Brock. He 'elped ya get outta dere." Jack just nodded at Brock, and then smiled.

"Ya remembered what I said." Trick guessed this was aimed at him, so he shook his head.

"You'se always was talking about going to El Paso and seeing Shasta bout dat job."

"And you can't work until you're better, you're one sick guy, damn bastards for not feedin' ya." Shasta turned and gave Brock an evil look.

"What? It's not my choice. Everythin's up to Mighty Joe." Jack shivered at the mention of the name. 

The group continued their journey back to El Paso through the night. By mid afternoon Jack recognized the dusty little town he once paraded into where he had found Shasta and had left to go to hell and then back. What had happened to his dream? Was it all just an illusion? He sighed, and felt defeated, worthless. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 2

Chapter 7

The carriage stopped outside a two story building a little outside of town. "This is my place, lets go." Shasta said hopping out of her seat. Trick and Brock jumped out behind her, but when Jack attempted to do the same, he found his body too weak to move it. "Ok guys, help him out! He's sick remember?" Shasta ordered the two guys. Her patience was at its edge, and when that happened, she got bossy. Jack was helped into her small apartment, and placed on the small couch in her living room. 

"I'm going to find a doctor, stay here with him." Shasta said walking out the front door. The three guys were left alone to wait for her to return.

"So, ah, how do you know Shasta?" Brock said scratching his head not knowing how to start a conversation with two of the rebels at his former ranch. 

Jack started to talk but was cut off by Trick since he knew the story as well and Jack had to save his energy. "Jackie boy here met her when he stopped here on his way to Sante Fe. What luck he had in Sante Fe." Scorn and contempt filled Trick's words as he spoke to Brock. 

"Look it ain't my fault." Brock said backing up and looking nervously up at Shasta's ceiling and floor boards.

Trick just sighed. It was hopeless to be mean to him. He wasn't Mighty Joe. "So how do you know Shasta?"

"Heh, funny you should ask. We got a history, me and her. Used to be an item we were about 4 years ago." Brock had a reminiscent look, one filled with happiness and sadness. "We had something, that we did, but she broke my heart and left for here. I haven't seen her since. And then she just shows up at Mighty Joe's place and my life is turned upside down. Ya realize I don't have a job now?"

"Yea you realize Jackie boy is sick and we ain't go no jobs eithah?" Brock frowned and realized they were both pretty much screwed. "So why did Shasta leave ya?"

"I dunno. She never said. Just got up and left, leavin' me a goodbye note and not to come look for her. I wish I had." Both Jack and Trick could see he was hurting but nothing they could do about it. They had their own problems at the moment and it had been four years for him to get over her. But then again, Trick thought, he could see why Brock couldn't get over her. She was amazing. 

After a short period of awkward silence that seemed to last forever Shasta and the doctor came wandering in.

"Alright let me have a look at the boy." The doctor who was pretty young, with a good head of blond hair and a fair complexion compared to the rest of the state. He went to work giving him water, food, and writing out a schedule of how much he was to eat and drink per day. As soon as he left Shasta let out an exasperatedsigh. 

"I could have done that. What the hell did we need the doctor for?" She looked over the list and threw it into the trash. "Alright Yank …ahh I see a problem. I call both of y'all Yank. Hm…oh well. You there Yank, eat this-" and she shoved some bread in his face along with a glass of water. "and then get some rest." She turned to the other 2 boys and wondered what she was going to do about them. "This place is kinda small for all of us, so, uh, how does the floor sound?" Both boys nodded in agreement and she went into the closet and shoved a couple blankets at them and laid one on Jack. "Um, tomorrow I hafta go to work, so you guys can stay here. Um, then we can go to my brothers ranch the next day. I can't keep ya here for too long. Goodnight." She closed the door to the bedroom and the boys were left, once again, to themselves. They set up themselves and headed to bed with a few short good nights.

*****

The next morning Shasta was up bright and early, well before any of the guys and was making her breakfast in the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon always reminded her of her pa's ranch in the morning. Her ma would be standing over the oven cooking fresh eggs from the hen house, bacon from the pig recently slaughtered and toasting the bread she had made over the weekend. Shasta missed those days. But her Ma was dead and her Pa was closing down the ranch since her brother had already opened his own ranch. What about her? Why couldn't he give her the ranch? She was just as qualified for the job, she'd helped her pa run it for years before she left. She knew everything about cows, and how to run a ranch properly. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice Brock standing before her watching her. 

"Oh!" She jumped, practically dropping the frying pan. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry. You looked busy in yer head so I didn't want to interrupt."

Shasta smiled. She had loved him for those little quirks of his. But that was over, a long time ago. He was something of her past, and she didn't want to go back to that part. And she was finding these new Yanks to be a good find. She just had to choose which one she liked better. She grinned at the thought and Brock curiously looked at her.

"What you happy fer?"

"Can't a girl be happy?" Shasta snapped back. Then regretted it, watching Brocks face fall into the all over frown. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at ya. Forgive me?"

Brock couldn't help but give in to the look she gave him. "Of course I'll forgive ya, for that. What the hell happened between us?"

Shasta hated confrontations and guess what, this was one. She didn't know what to say, she didn't want to say anything. But she couldn't stop avoiding this for the rest of her life. "Where do I start. I don't even know why I left. I just had to get out. It was you, well not just you anyway. It was everything, my whole life was in an uproar and I didn't know what I was doing. So I just left. I didn't have a reason, a good one anyway, but I just picked up my things and left." She paused, closed her eyes and thought about what she was going to say. "Brock, I'm very sorry that I hurt you. I hurt a lot of people, and they probably won't forgive me real easy. But for now you just have to understand that I was very confused at that time, and it wasn't personal at all, I just needed to start new, and that meant leaving everything I had behind."

"Including me." Brock was hurt, the expression on his face showed it clear as a bell. Shasta couldn't help what she had done, it was over and done with, and she told him this. 

"There's nothing more to be done. I'm sorry and I truly mean that, but we both

have to get on with life." And with that she picked up her piece of toast and headed out

the door. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen." She told Trick and Jack who were both up at that time. She hoped they hadn't heard her and Brock's conversation. But of course they had. "Well, help yourself to anything but don't leave me with nothin' so I starve." With that she placed her hat on her head and walked out the door into the blazing sun of early morning. 

*****

Jack and Trick had indeed overheard Brock and Shasta talking, and when they finally were alone with Brock they didn't know what to say. With this third party, being who he was (the main man for Mighty Joe), they were very uncomfortable together. Jack still couldn't move around much, but he was eating and drinking and hopefully would be in better shape in the next week. 

"I'm going out. Stay here." Brock said, and slammed the door to Shasta's apartment as he left. Trick and Jack just looked at each other not knowing what to make of it. 

"Well buddy boy, we're finally free." Trick looked around at Shasta's sparcely decorated living room. There was the old couch Jack was sitting on, with a couple pillows. A clock was on the mantle along with a picture frame with money in it. Dried flowers were on a rickety little table besides an old wooden rocking chair. It was a much better view than stinky dirty feet hanging over bunk beds late at night or early in the morning with just a dim candle to light the rooms.

"Yep, it seems all I do is fight ta get free from one thing or anothah." Trick nodded in agreement.

"In ordah ta get by, ya gotta fight. And that's what we've been doin. And we'll continue doin' it until we die." 

"What do we do now?" 

"I dunno, we're going to Shasta's brothah's ranch tomorrow so we'll see. Maybe we'll work dere. Unless you wanna go back ta New York?"

"I dunno. I'se been thinking about it. But I got all dis way and I ain't turnin' back cause of one little incident." Trick laughed at his determination. Just like the little Francis he knew long ago. The change of name did not mean a change of character. 

"Good fer you. I'se stickin out heah as well. Can't turn back now, most of me friends wouldn't recognize me back in New York anyway. But dat's life fer ya."

"You evah think about goin back?"

"Nah, well not until you showed up. I was happy as a clam, or a coyote, until you walked in and reminded me of me old life. It was a life that I once said I'd nevah be able to leave behind, but I did and I wouldn't trade this one for anythin'."

"Until ya find somethin' ya like bettah." Jack laughed and Trick had to chuckle for it was true. He once had said that he wouldn't trade being a newsie for anything but here he was, a cowboy. "Is bein' a cowboy all its made up ta be?"

Trick just laughed. "Nah, it certainly don't make ya a hero or nothin. It ain't grand or anything, but it was work and dats all dat mattahs. I got me clothes, and a friend or two and I'm all set. Now all I'se in need of is me own ranch and a goil. Didja have a goil back in New York?"

"Eh, I did. Sorta. Her name was Sarah but we nevah got anywhere. I kinda miss her but we weren't meant ta be."

Trick nodded knowingly. "I had a goil like that. All da guys thought we'd last forevah but it didn't last nearly as long as dat. We split the minute I said I was goin out heah."

"Dat's what happened between me an' Sarah. She hated the idea of me comin' out heah. The boys weren't too keen on it, but 'ey ya gotta do what ya gotta do. I don't regret—"

Jack was interrupted by Shasta running into the room, her face flushed, and out of breath. "We…have…to…" she paused for some breath, while the boys looked worriedly on. "GO!" she practically shrieked, grabbing at Trick and pulled the two out the door. Both were confused and had no idea what was going on, but they had to go apparently. The carriage was waiting outside and they hopped in and sped off out of town. 

Once they were out of town and Shasta had slowed the speeding carriage, the boys started asking the questions.

"What the hell is this all about?"

"Where are we going?"

"Why—"

"OK! Boys shut up a second. Brock wanted to get back at me I guess and went off and sent a telegram to Mighty Joe about where y'all were. I don't think he knows where we're goin though. Hopefully not but we're not going down to Frank's right yet. Give them a few days. So we're goin to my Pa's place. He won't think of goin there, and if he did, Brock knows he'd get shot off the property. My pa doesn't like him too much. Especially after what I'll be telling him." 

"Why da hell would Brock do dat?" Jack asked a little winded from the run from the couch to the carriage. 

"To get back at me I suppose. I left him a while ago and I guess he never got over it. I shoulda seen it this mornin'. He sure wasn't a happy block for certain. Did he say anything?"

"No. Jus' that he had ta go and we had ta stay put." 

Shasta nodded. "So he could come get ya and torture ya some more." _He probably figures I fell hard for one of these boys and wanted them away from me, so he could try his hand with me again. _She just shook her head at the thought. He was one very jealous little boy. But what could she do?

The rest of the ride was once again in silence. For more times than he could count Jack had been on the run from someone or other, and here he was again. It was like he couldn't escape his old life when trying to make a new one. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 2

Chapter 8

It was a little after dawn that the three very weary travelers pulled up to the ranch of Shasta's childhood days. Her pa was sitting on the front porch watching the sun come up and the cattle roam the plains. His cup of scalding coffee burned his tongue, but he was used to it. His tongue was dry and scratchy anyway from years of being out in the hot sun without any water. When he saw the dust rising on the horizon he knew he had a visitor. He never got them much. His oldest son Frank never was around much, he had moved out east, and Scott had his own ranch to run. Shasta wrote, but the poor dear was up to her ears in debt with her bar and all. No one seemed to have the time to visit their old man. So it had just been him and the farm hands for years now. Brock used to come every once and a while, but that stopped when he realized Shasta had left him for good. Good thing too, his little girl could do so much better.

When the carriage drew closer, his heart skipped a beat. It was indeed his Shasta Mae! Her red curls were outlined by the sun and her reckless driving was known throughout the neighborhood. The smile on his face grew and he stood up to greet his beloved daughter. 

Shasta saw her father on the porch, looking out at her. He must've recognized her, and emotions welled up in her belly. She hadn't seen her father for five years and she never realized how old he was looking. His grey hair hung out in strands underneath his cap, and he grasped the railing of the porch with one strong hand while clutching his same cup of coffee in the other. He was stilla strong man, as he'd always been. She pulled the carriage to a stop and jumped out and ran to the old man and hugged him.

"Shasta Mae, angel came back to see her old man! What brings this occasion?' He looked back towards the buggy and the two blocks who got out after her. "Don't tell me ya marryin' one o' them." 

Shasta threw back her head and laughed, her red hair bouncing over her shoulders. "Nah Pa, they're just friends." He sighed in relief and just laughed. 

"I wasn't ready to give ya up that easy. I thought I had lost ya there with Brock." Shasta just grunted and shook her head.

"That's one of the reasons we're out here. They're in a bit of trouble with Mighty Joe and Brock works for him, and he kinda told Joe where they were…"

"So I'm housing refugees huh?" Jack and Trick winced, afraid he was going to be mad but he just laughed. "I like that idea, get some excitement into an old man's life. Well what are my felons names?"

"Oh, that one is Jack and that is Trick. They're Yanks."

"Ahh, not only do I have criminals in my house, but Yanks! I guess that'll have to do. Frank is now a Yank." He shook his head. 

"Boys, this is my Pa Gerald McKenzie the third." They all shook hands and then he invited them into the house. 

"I don't have any breakfast ready or nothing…" 

"Don't worry bout it Pa, I got everythin' taken care of." She whipped through the house like she had never been gone and soon was in the kitchen cooking away. Mr. McKenzie just smiled, it was good to have a female back in the house. Hopefully she'll stay a few. 

******

Jack was feeling fine enough, so Mr. McKenzie put him on top of a horse, gave him a canteen of water and a bag of food and set him off to help the hands out in the fields with the cattle. Trick got the dirty work since he was fit and able. He got the lucky job of cleaning out the horses stalls and the barn where the sheep were kept. He also got to feed the horses, pigs and other livestock surrounding the house. Trick watched Jack ride off into the fields, looking just like a real cowboy. His head was filled with pride, for this was after all one of his students back in New York, and he glad to see he had turned out ok.

Jack loved the sensation of being up high on a horse, looking down over the cattle, thousands of Texas Longhorns he was told by one of the other hands who was out with him. The sun was hot, but he didn't mind. This was better than any day at Mighty Joe's. This was a time to relax, to just take it easy. This was what he had come to look for, but who knows how long they were staying here and if this was going to be anything like the work on Shasta's brother's ranch. 

Shasta was finishing cleaning up and then headed out to the barn to get her horse and take it out in the fields to see if much had changed. She pulled back the heavy doors of the barn and stepped into the cedar chip laden air that was as familiar to her as her own scent. She had spent every afternoon down here grooming her horse, Luck of the Draw. As she walked towards Luck's stall she heard a big bang and turned the corner to see Trick struggling with Rad, her father's ignorant and bullheaded race horse. Shasta couldn't help herself from the oncoming laughing fit. Rad (short for Radcliff Meyers) had never been easy to handle. Her father had owned him for about 7 years, and in the two years she had tried to train him, he had stomped on her foot, kicked her in the stomach and bit her hands countless times. And it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"Pa shoulda warned you about Rad. He's a problem aie. Doesn't like no body. Hey Rad!" She gave him a slap on his rump. "Miss me?" He neighed furiously in response. "Guess not!" She laughed and helped Trick out of the stall. "He bite ya? Kick ya? Step on ya?" 

Trick just laughed. "Naw, he jus' cornered me is all. I was scared he was gonna eat me though."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Hey Pa!" Shasta yelled out the doorway at her father walking past. "What you tryin to do? Kill my friends here?!" Gerald gave a quizzical look at his daughter, wondering what she might be talking about then heard the loud braying of his prized fighter horse Rad. He chuckeld

"Guess I forgot to tell him about the beast. Be wary of him, he's sure to not like ya." Trick nodded his thanks after the fact he almost got beat up by the animal. Shasta just laughed and closed the stall door. 

"That's one you want to be careful of. Now I'm off to find my horse!" She trodded down into the barn, everyonce and a while stopping to pet a horse and talk to it. Trick just smiled and continued to go on with his work. She was whistling off in the background and it was a good tune to work by. Soon the clip-clop of a horses hooves echoed throughout the barn and the whistling Shasta waved as she passed, leading a beautiful, old black stallion. 

Shasta stepped into the sun, and gazed up at her beauty of a horse. He had been the love of her life when she was younger and she couldn't wait to ride him again. She pulled herself up into the saddle, the leather worn and scratched from years of use. The feel of a horse underneath her legs made her pulse with happiness. She rode the horse out into the fields and urged him into a gallop. As she came over the hill she saw a familiar sight: hundreds of Texas Longhorns grazing as far as the eye can see. She smiled, knowing her father was still doing well after all these years.

Shasta picked out Jack from the other hands. She smiled at this too; he looked so happy, content and totally enjoying himself. He was a natural which surprised her some but she figured he had to be. He was a hard worker, that was evident. She rode her horse down among the hands, making her way to Jack. A couple of the older hands waved to her or tipped their hats, but there were a lot of new workers who she didn't recognize. Guess that's what happens when you leave for 5 years; things change. She waved at Jack who smiled and waved back. 

"Howdy partner!" Shasta laughed gazing at Jack. He just continued to smile, this life was what he was looking for, and he wouldn't have minded having a pretty girl like Shasta to be by his side. "Looks like you got the easy job huh? Poor Trick is up in the barn fighting Pa's evil horse. That horse that yer ridin' was my Ma's. Hername is Periwinkle McGee…Peri fer short. She's a good horse she is." Shasta looked sad but it soon passed when she shot him a big smile that Jack had figured was one of her trademarks. 

"She's a great horse," Jack said looking out over the herd of cattle. "Everything here is great. This was da life in me dreams back in New York." Shasta smiled, she was glad he was happy here. Too bad they couldn't stay. But her brother took after her pa so Jack would probably be happy there too. 

"You feelin' any better?" 

"Yea, I'se still a little tired out but I got food and water in me and the sun on me back and I'm not haulin' around sacs of feed so I'se all good." And good he did look. Shasta had noticed he was good looking, but seeing him so happy, with good coloring and a smile on his face, he was even more attractive. Shasta laughed to herself inside, she couldn't let herself fall for another guy. 

"Well I'm glad ye're good. I'm gonna go see if my friends still live round here…so I'll see you later!" Shasta waved as she headed off past the herd. She hadn't seen the girls since she left. They may be bitter about her departure, like Brock had, but she had to see them anyway. After riding for a while she saw the cluster of small cabins where they lived. Memories of childhood games and her old life crowded around her. She couldn't believe she was back, she just hoped they'd want her back.

The first in the line of houses belonged Harley and her family. Harley had been her best friend since they were about 5 years old. They'd spent every minute of their time together, until Alli and Relic came along. Then all three of them became inseperable and had been until Shasta's disappearance. Now Shasta didn't know what to expect from the three. Would they greet her as friends or as strangers?


End file.
